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Message-ID: <31391asstr$994918204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: tmquin@NS_attglobal.net (Thomas M Quin)
Subject: {ASSM} Vanishing Point Part 17 (M/ff, B and D, Kidnap)
Date: Thu, 12 Jul 2001 02:10:04 -0400
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Some of you may have noticed that VP has not exactly been evenly split
for the last few chapters. This is because my partner Timid hurt her
leg and has been unable to write. There are a few more chapters left
to post and Timid currently has the pen, so please write to her if you
want to see more.

Tom

*****************************************************************
                                     STANDARD DISCLAIMER
                                     ===================

The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and 
has been posted only to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place this is not the responsibility of the author.

The authors explicitly prohibits.

1) The posting of this story in an incomplete form. 

2) The use of this story in a larger work without his express 
    permission.

3) The use of this story on any CD, BBS or Website without the
    written permission of the author.

This work is copyright TM Quin and timidt 2000

All characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.

Timid and Quin 2000

  timidt@hotmail.com                           tmquin@attglobal.net
*****************************************************************

		Vanishing Point Part 17 (Ben)
	===================================

     "Comfy Liz?"

      It wasn't a serious question, and the huge inflatable gag that
      filled her mouth made sure there was little chance of an
      answer. Elizabeth moaned and looked at me with wide begging
      eyes. The harness I had spent the last hour strapping her into
      is essentially a portable prison made of leather. The top is a
      wide padded posture collar that buckles around the throat, then
      come 2 vertical straps, one at the front of the body and one at
      the back, that eventually fasten to a leather bondage/chastity
      belt that is strapped around the waist. At regular intervals
      down these vertical belts, thinner horizontal belts are
      attached, one just above the breasts, one just bellow and then
      3 more around the torso and belly. The harness has extra D
      rings and mounting points everywhere allowing the fixing of
      limbs or the strapping of the victim to other objects. At the
      moment apart from the harness and the gag, Elizabeth's only
      other restraints where a pair of bondage mittens which covered
      her hands and where fastened at her wrists with thick leather
      cuffs. Thin straps from the bottom of the mittens were fastened
      temporally to the belt at her waist.

      I'd been kind to Liz, I could have fastened the harness over
      her naked body. Instead I had dressed her in a peach colored
      Victoria's Secret teddy we'd found in her luggage. A pair of VS
      thigh high stockings and a pair of 3 inch strap-on heels had
      completed her ensemble. Now it was time for the outerwear.

      I had found the coat in a thrift shop in Boston a few years
      before. Thrift shops are useful places for slavers, they make
      it easy to find the makings of restraints and slave clothes
      without attracting attention. The coat was a ladies full
      length, black leather trench coat that probably dated from the
      end of the sixties. In any case the leather was thick and the
      seams strong, it seemed to lend itself nicely to "improvement."

      I had Thelma hold the coat open while I freed one of
      Elizabeth's arms and threaded it inside. It was then Liz
      encountered the first of my improvements. The coat's sleeves
      had been sown to its sides making two tight leather channels
      which directed the wearer's hands down into the pockets. I
      waited until the first arm was half in then freed the second
      arm and directed it into its sleave. Thelma lifted the back and
      slid the shoulders of the coat onto Liz's shoulders.

      Liz looked puzzled, but I just gave her a smile and continued.
      Inside the sleeves just above and just bellow the elbows on
      each side where two thin leather straps. I pulled these tight
      and fastened them to the side straps of the harness. A moment
      later the bondage mittens, which poked through a hole in the
      lining of the coat's pockets, where strapped tightly to the
      bondage belt.

      That done we could close the coat. On the inside was an extra
      layer of stiff linen cloth with a set of small strap
      fastenings. It was really this layer that forced the coat
      closed, but once the straps were fastened, a flap of leather
      with the coats original buttons was closed over the top to hide
      it. I stepped back. The long coat extended down from the neck
      to just above the knees. It seemed quite natural, the arms came
      down the side of the body then angled into the pockets, not a
      thing looked out of place. If it wasn't for Liz's wide eyes and
      gagged mouth you wouldn't have known that anything was amiss.

      And there were ways to fix that.

      ---------------------------------------------------

      "Hold still!" Thelma said. In truth Liz could barely move but
      the little movement she did make was enough to upset my slave.

      "This is an alternative to the box Liz," I warned, "now will
      you behave?"

      Liz's eyes widened for a moment. Then she held still and that
      was all the time Thelma needed. "There Master," she said
      proudly, "what do you think?"

      I looked Liz over. For the moment I tried to forget that I knew
      that Liz's mouth was filled with a high-density sponge ball,
      that her lips were sealed closed by thin surgical tape or that
      the tape was now covered with a thin layer of makeup and a pair
      of lipgloss lips. Instead I tried to look at her as if I had
      just glanced at the girl in passing. Up close it was probably
      obvious, but I hoped nobody would get that close. I nodded.
      "Very good slave," I said, "you can blindfold her now."

      Elizabeth's eyes widened, she had obviously not expected that.
      A very faint noise came from her mouth and she made a slight
      head movement to the limits of the posture collar.

      "Close your eyes Liz," I ordered, "otherwise this can be
      painful."

      She had no choice. She gave Thelma a dirty look and then closed
      her eyes. Thelma didn't waste time, we were fighting a
      schedule, she used a dab of gel to protect Liz's lashes then
      covered her eyes with small ovals of flesh colored tape. That
      done we finished her off.

      I stood back and looked. The three inch heels had given Liz a
      bit of extra height, making the woman standing before me seem
      quite statuesque. Her long stocking'd legs ran from the fuck-me
      heels up to the bottom of the long leather trench coat. The
      coat was fastened tight and belted in, showing the woman's
      excellent figure. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets and the
      leather covered her body from her knees to the bright yellow
      scarf tied around her throat. Above that came her painted face,
      cherry lips twisted in an odd smile, then a thin nose above
      which her eyes were covered in a pair of Raybans. Finally the
      long blond hair that fell about her shoulders was held in place
      by an expensive silk scarf. I nodded. A little overdressed for
      the neighborhood but a lot better than trying to take her back
      in a laundry bag.

      Smiling, I took Liz's arm and led her through the door. Once
      outside I put a protective arm around her and led her towards
      the camper.

      Of course Elizabeth could still draw attention to herself. For
      one thing she needed only to lift up her feet and fall.
      Yesterday I wouldn't have even tried anything this risky but
      that was before the box had given Elizabeth a taste of being
      completely helpless.

      Now as I led her down the path towards the waiting Battlewagon,
      she pressed herself to me, not just for guidance, not just for
      support but also for companionship. She was bound and gagged,
      blindfolded, her ears filled with wax plugs, her sense of touch
      restricted, her few valid senses scrambled by the buzzing
      vibrator held in her pussy by the chastity belt. At that moment
      she was as helpless as it was possible for a person to be, and
      the only thing in her world was my arm holding her. Like a good
      little submissive bitch she walked as directed, striding across
      the parking lot in her heels. We paused outside the battlewagon
      and she let me lift her through the side door without a single
      sound or struggle. There were a few people out and about that
      morning and we got the occasional glance, but no one took a
      second look and in a few moments it was over.

      I kept her in the coat for now, letting Thelma drive while I
      sat and used the laptop to compose an Email to Louise. I was
      guessing that Liz suffered from some kind of multiple
      personality disorder and if that was the case I needed advice.
      I had assumed that undermining the "Elizabeth" persona would
      leave Liz open and moldable. Of course back then I'd assumed
      that "Elizabeth" was the face that Liz showed the world, a mask
      of some kind as opposed to a complete personality. Causing
      Elizabeth to crack had uncovered "Slave Liz" --a personality
      that suited my final needs much better. I started to wonder how
      many more personalities there were in Liz's pretty head and
      what kind of terrible event had caused her to fracture in the
      first place. Beyond that was the question of if it was possible
      to actually train and more importantly trust a slave with this
      problem.

      Periodically as I wrote I would glance up at Liz as she sat
      across from me. I had seat belted her to one of the captain's
      chairs and in keeping with her slightly retro looks, I had
      forced her to cross her legs before tying her ankles off to the
      subframe. Now she looked like a '50's starlet, head scarf, long
      blonde locks, Raybans and pouty red lips. I had replaced the
      earplugs with the conditioning Walkman. However this time the
      indoctrination tape was a little different. I had used the time
      with Slave Liz to have her rerecord the messages. Now
      Elizabeth's mind was being bombarded with the sound of her own
      voice telling her to obey. I wondered what effect that would
      have.

      Today there was more hard driving to be done. I began to think
      of keeping Liz like this and have her travel up front with me?
      There was no risk she could attract attention strapped to the
      passenger seat and nobody would recognize her. Right now with
      her long blond wig and the 50's makeup she looked more like
      Marilyn Monroe than Elizabeth Monroe. I smiled. I would remove
      the blindfold of course, let the girl have a glimpse of the
      freedom that I had taken from her. Even gagged she would make
      an excellent companion and it would give Thelma chance to
      sleep.

      My eyes narrowed. Thelma and I had a appointment one that had
      been waiting since the day I plucked my redheaded slave from
      the side of that road. I glanced across at the helpless Liz.
      Perhaps we would take Liz with us for the final face-off?
      Though it was risky it would be safer than leaving her tied in
      the camper alone while we did our business. I decided I would
      think about it as we drove.

      I looked down at the Polaroids we had taken the night before.
      After that, all we had to do was find Keith and destroy
      Elizabeth's life forever.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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